


Keeping Warm

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: Wild Adapter
Genre: Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sappy, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kubota gets sick, Tokito takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [futuresoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuresoon/gifts).



> Set after Dice 41, based off Tokito's last line of, "We're gonna catch a cold."

After a night spent treading water in Yokohama Harbor, they did, indeed, catch colds. Wet, snuffly, miserable colds. Tokito's took up residence in his sinuses and proceeded to pack his nose with what felt like the snot equivalent of concrete. He had to breathe through his mouth, and his tongue and throat felt like sandpaper no matter how much water he drank. Tokito wasn't worried about himself, though. He was just stuffed up and dry and coughing every now and then. Unlike Kubo-chan.

Kubo-chan said that he was fine. Kubo-chan said that it was just a cold: nothing to worry about, nothing that some hot tea and good take-out and sleep wouldn't cure.

Tokito was skeptical of Kubo-chan's expertise in this particular area. Kubo-chan wasn't so great at taking care of himself. Ever. And Kubo-chan didn't hear the awful, strained sound of his breathing while he slept, or seem to be bothered by the way his coughs echoed deep in his chest.

Being sick was, Tokito knew, the least of their worries. It fell into line far behind, oh, the yakuza finding out where this new apartment was, or the police dragging them in for questioning about a boat full of dead people. Still. Listening to the little wheeze in Kubota's chest whenever he breathed was slowly driving Tokito insane, and the over-the-counter stuff from the little store at the end of the block wasn't helping.

"I'm going out," Tokito announced. It sounded more like, _Ib doeng bout_, but Kubota seemed fine at translating.

Kubota blinked up at him. He had crawled out of bed around noon and slowly slumped over on the couch while playing video games. He was now more horizontal than not, propped against a small mountain of pillows. Tokito had thrown a blanket over him, because that was what you were supposed to do with sick people, right? Keep them warm? He didn't have much experience at taking care of sick people, but Kubo-chan had smiled at him and pulled the blanket around himself in a fuzzy blue cocoon, so Tokito figured he'd done ok.

Kubota's voice was scratchier than usual and for once not because of smoking. He'd lit up his habitual first cigarette that morning and spent ten minutes coughing before giving up and crushing it out. "Okay. Be careful."

There was a lot unsaid in those last two words. _Keep your head down. Don't draw attention. Remember who's looking for us._ But none of that needed to actually be said. Tokito's dreams were still of lying on cold metal, the groan of the ship around him, and the smell of his own blood.

"I will," Tokito said. He laid a hand on Kubota's blanket-clad shoulder. Kubota smiled up at him in that pleasantly surprised way he had and tilted his head just a bit so that Tokito's hand brushed his cheek. His stubble rasped gently against Tokito's skin.

"I'll be right back," Tokito said.

\----------

The new apartment was closer to Chinatown. From putting on his shoes it was only a quick bus and a five-minute walk to pushing open Toukohan's door. Tokito couldn't smell the usual dry scent of herbs and dust, but it caught in his throat nonetheless, making him cough through Kou's "Irrashai".

"Tokito-kun. Not feeling well?" the bastard had the nerve to ask, that little smile playing over his lips.

Tokito started to reply but got distracted by trying not to choke on his own phlegm.

"I see," Kou said, unfazed. He set down his book and unfolded from his chair, walking around the counter to peer at Tokito through his glasses while Tokito himself tried to catch his breath. And dammit, Tokito could hear the same wheeze in his own lungs that he'd spent the night worrying about hearing in Kubo-chan's.

"Hmm," Kou said thoughtfully. "Congestion, coughing, shortness of breath. A bit of a fever? Yes, I thought so." He smiled as he walked over to one of the walls of labeled bins and boxes. "Traditional Chinese medicine would call it wind cold invading the lungs, or perhaps wind phlegm obstructing the lungs. Interference with the lung qi, in any case, resulting in your symptoms. And perhaps those of any roommates you might have?"

Tokito nodded, gasping a bit.

"Yes, I thought so." Kou pulled out some small packets and twists of paper, while Tokito stifled another cough. "A traditional Chinese doctor would prescribe ma huang and xixin and xingren. Ephedrin and apricot seed and asarum: warm herbs to bring heat back into the lungs and restore the proper circulation of energy."

Kou walked back behind the counter, pulled out a paper bag, and snapped it open one-handed. "That would be one of each of these--" he held up each type of packet before putting it in the bag. Tokito couldn't read the writing, but they all looked different, so he could figure it out "--combined and made into a tea. Steep for twenty minutes, then drink. To be taken each morning and evening for three days. Understood? Good."

The shopkeeper held up a finger, looking at Tokito over the rim of his glasses. "However. A modern doctor would perhaps diagnose viral or bacterial pneumonia. Particularly the latter, if he knew, for instance, that the patients had recently been exposed to a large body of questionably clean water in the recent past."

Kou's lips quirked in a knowing cat's smile, his eyes laughing. Tokito glared at him, swallowing to try to keep the tickle in his throat at bay.

Kou's other hand came up, holding an unlabeled plastic drugstore bottle. "Such a doctor would prescribe a course of antibiotics to kill the infection." He dropped the brown bottle into the bag of herbs and folded down the top with a precise crease. "One tablet twice a day, with food, and it is particularly important to finish the entire course."

Tokito looked at the bag, then at the shopkeeper, scowling and feeling vaguely cheated.

Kou pushed it over the counter toward him, still smiling. "I'll put it on your tab, hmm, Tokito-kun? Or, rather, Kubota-kun's. But it's the same thing, isn't it?"

Tokito opened his mouth to tell the smarmy, unlicensed bastard just what he thought of his smug, superior attitude, but his lungs seized up, the coughing started again, and he gave up, snatching the bag and stomping out without even managing to get a word in edgewise.

"Please come again~!" Kou called after him.

Tokito's reply was non-verbal, one-handed, and perfectly understandable.

\-----------

Kubota was asleep when Tokito got back. His eyes slitted open when the door opened, but he was asleep again by the time Tokito came over to check on him. Tokito just made sure the blanket was still in place and went into the tiny kitchen to boil water.

The steeping tea stank the small apartment up worse than Kubo-chan's cigarettes ever did. That Tokito could actually smell it past the congestion was a minor and unfortunate miracle. The stuff was bitter and terrible-tasting, too. Tokito slugged his dose back all in one go with a grimace, using it to wash down one of the white tablets from the little brown bottle. He took another pill and the other half of the tea over to Kubota, nudging his shoulder. "Hey. Here."

Kubota blinked awake. "Nnn?" His glasses were slightly askew from leaning against the pillows while he slept.

Tokito wiggled the cup at him. "Some things from the unlicensed bastard. To keep your lungs warm or some shit. Drink it quick. It tastes bad."

"Okay," Kubota said, wriggling a hand free to reach for the cup. He wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him, then popped the pill and washed it down. "You're right," he said, handing the empty cup back. "That's disgusting."

"Yeah, well, you've got to take it for three days." Tokito leveled a finger at him. "And don't think that you're going to get out of it just because it tastes bad!"

Kubota smiled. "I won't." Tokito set the cups on the coffeetable and flopped down on the couch. Kubota opened his blanket in invitation, and Tokito settled against his chest. The couch wasn't quite deep enough for them to lay side-by-side on it comfortably, but Tokito knew just how to tuck in against Kubota--one arm under his own head, one arm over Kubota's hip--to make it bearable. The blanket closed around him, warm and smelling of Kubo-chan: smoke and laundry detergent and traces of gunpowder.

"We could just go back to bed," Tokito muttered into Kubota's collarbone, tucking his cold feet against the back of the couch.

"Mmm. We could," Kubota agreed, yawning. His hands traced aimless patterns over Tokito's back, up and down, up and down....

Tokito knew that heading back to bed was less likely to give him a crick in his neck, but Kubo-chan's hands were soothing, and the tickle in his throat was finally relaxing, easing his cough. Besides, the bed was cold, while the couch was warm. And really, that was all that mattered.

Tokito pulled the squishy couch-pillow more firmly under his head and tucked his hand under it. The rise and fall of his chest matched Kubota's, falling into sync as he fell into sleep. As their muscles relaxed against each other in the warm cocoon of blankets, their breathing gradually eased.

 

~End


End file.
